Predator
by Suki-Itami
Summary: A "what if" scenario for the end of my story, Prey. When Cartman kidnapped Kyle, he made a fatal mistake. What if he never made that mistake? Showing the twists and turns that Cartman had planned for them, and even some that happen completely by accident, Predator makes what would've happened known if Cartman had gotten what he truly wished. (Note: Read Prey before this.)


_"You stole my life - you've taken everything/Left me here to die/You wonder why - I wish you'd suffocate/And kiss your ass goodnight"_

Chapter 1: Weight Beneath My Sin

 _...Kyle..._

When I opened my eyes, there was a bucket's worth of ice cold water being dumped onto me. I sputtered and spit out what I can, but most of what had been poured on me didn't make it into my mouth. I moved to wipe my face of the water, but found my wrists bound behind my back. I struggled against the rope, hoping that it was weak or poorly tied, but it was no use. I gave up after a minute.

Behind me, someone cackled. I turned over from my left side on the wooden floor to see a big woman with long blonde hair and green eyes, ruby red lipstick drew attention to her mouth. "Are you with Eric?" I asked hesitantly, afraid to think that he might have an ally.

She laughed. "No dumbass," she said in Eric's voice, "I _am_ Eric." He pulled off the blonde wig and wiped his lips clean of the lipstick; he removed the green colored contacts from his eyes to show his natural brown iris.

My jaw dropped open seeing him standing there. As my eyes took in his entirety, I remembered every savage beating, every burn, every time I bled because of him...even every time he raped me. Stan had saved me from that horror story, never giving up even after Eric had tried to kill us both. We saw Eric jailed and lived happily during the time he had been sent away to a maximum security prison. Stan even joined the military.

The happiness and calm lasted until last week when we had heard that Eric had escaped the prison and was heading towards South Park.

And yesterday, Stan left for basic training, leaving me alone with Eric on the loose-it wasn't a choice that he had though, he _had_ to go to basic.

Eric was waiting for me at the apartment I shared with Stand whenever I returned from dropping Stan off at the airport though, and I assume that's how I ended up tied and on the floor with Eric standing over me in a female fat suit that he was dropping to the ground next to his feet.

When I asked why he was in drag, he sighed in annoyance. "How do you think I managed to get here without being caught? I had a fucking _S.W.A.T. team_ after me. Luckily, I ran into an old friend who wanted me to return."

"Old friend?" I scoffed and sat up after struggling a bit with the rope around my wrists. "No one liked you, and you know it."

He crouched in front of me and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. His face was now criss-crossed with small scars from numerous prison fights, but other than that, there was little that had changed. His eyes were still filled with cruelty and his breath still stank of cheap fried food. "Well, maybe no one _used_ to like me, but you've made an enemy."

"An enemy? Who?" Even if I _had_ angered someone in town, no one would've helped this fat ass get to me. Everyone in town was happy when he was locked up.

"Craig Tucker," he said with a wide, cocky smirk. My eyes widened at the name. Not long ago, when Kenny was deployed to Afghanistan-he was the one who had originally convinced Stan to join the military as well-Craig had taken advantage of his absence and forced himself on Butters. I had walked in and stopped it. I figured he would've have been my biggest fan afterward, but I never would've thought he'd assist Eric in getting to me. He faked a French accent in a high tone as he told me the story of the woman he was pretending to be, and that he brought me to a cabin that Craig's family only used in the springtime.

"In the spring, you'll be escorting 'Jacqueline' back to her native France," he concluded with a laugh.

"No," I told him curtly.

"No?" He narrowed his eyes on me for defying him immediately. He seemed to have forgotten that I had had a year away from him while he was in prison; I wasn't his broken toy anymore.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" I swung my legs around-which were also bound with rope-to kick him in the face, but he simply caught my ankles and flipped me onto my stomach. I coughed when the wind was taken from me at being slammed onto my stomach and groaned when I could breathe again.

"Stop acting like you have a choice. Now," Eric pulled a slip of paper from his pocket, "onto more pressing matters." He dangled the paper in front of my face; on it was the number Stan had given me before he left in case I had to contact him. It was the emergency number for the base where he was doing his basic training. "Whose number is this?"

"Why should I tell _you_?"

Eric grabbed a fistful of my hair and smashed my head into the floor. "Whose number is this you little fuck?"

For a moment, I considered not telling him, but I knew what would come if I said nothing. So I told him through the mouthful of blood, "It's the number to the base where Stan is." I spit a glob of blood as Eric released me and looked at the number.

"So, your 'precious' fuck buddy is out of town, huh?" His eyes narrowed on the paper. "Guessing by the area code, he's out of state. Hmm..."

I struggled up again as Eric looked intensely at the number before tearing it to shreds. I watched with wide eyes as the pieces floated softly to the floor. I hadn't memorized that number yet, meaning I would have to rely on Captain Barbrady's squadron of buffoons to rescue me if I could ever get to a phone.

Eric grabbed my still wet jacket and forced me to my feet once he cut the rope tying my ankles together. The backs of his fingers grazed my cheek along the scars he had left there with his nails when I tried to leave him a year ago. "Come on, baby," he said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "our reunion must be celebrated."

"No!" I turned sharply and slammed my shoulder into his chest, sending him falling back onto his ass as it took him off guard. I made a break for the door, but he caught my ankle and pulled back as hard as he could, sending me crashing to the floor; my teeth rattled in my head when my chin hit first.

"You little bitch!" He stood and dragged me down the hallway to a room at the end.

I kicked out again as he reached down to grab my shoulders and was met with a punch to the face that stunned me long enough to thrown onto the large bed in the center of the room. Before I could recover, he had my pants and boxers off and was working on his own. "Cartman, don't," I begged pathetically. I didn't want to beg him, it made me feel like I was back in the house we shared trying to make a beating just a little better-a little softer. Usually it didn't work unless I did something particularly low or disgusting, so I didn't know why I automatically reverted to the begging. Was it that ingrained into me?

I gnashed my teeth and squeezed my eyes closed, waiting for the evitable violation, and when it didn't come, I relaxed. And when I opened my eyes, he turned me onto my back so I was looking into his eyes.

"What're you willing to do for me to not do this?" I shuddered at the smirk he was sending down at me.

Although I would come to hate myself for it, I said without thinking, "I'm still very skilled with my mouth."

Eric's smirk turned into a smile as he moved me to be sitting on my knees on the floor before him. "Prove it."

I slid my eyes closed as I took the length of Eric's cock into my mouth and made him moan for me. As I continued, I realized what I was doing-how I had once again become the prey of a more powerful predator.


End file.
